Lupus Dannialis
by LittleMissWolfie
Summary: AU. After drinking a mysterious liquid in his parents' lab, Danny unwittingly becomes a werewolf. Now in addition to navigating the social waters of high school, he has to evade his monster-hunting parents and deal with the development of his inner wolf and his urges to "mate" with one of his best friends... Rating subject to change. MOVING TO AO3.
1. Chapter 1

"No."

Tucker Foley wined, giving his best friend puppy dog eyes behind his glasses. "C'mon, Danny! With your parents out of town, this could be our only chance!"

Daniel Fenton glared at the African American boy with his ice-blue eyes. "Tuck, we're not sneaking into their lab."

The two eleventh graders were descending the main staircase of Casper High, having just finished World History with Coach Peach, their last class of the week. The sea of students around them was relentless in their haste to escape the hell hole that is public education, making their own departure that much more difficult. As they passed a group of football players in their red and white letterman jackets, Danny almost suffocated on the smell of unwashed gym clothes and Axe body spray. Lovely.

"Why not?" Tuck wheedled, fumbling to catch the red beret that was nearly knocked off when Dash Baxter, A.K.A. Tucker and Danny's self-proclaimed arch enemy (Danny had been pretty sure Dash meant to say "nemesis" during his declaration back in eighth grade but couldn't say it properly) "accidentally" rammed his shoulder into Tucker's head.

"Because," Danny said, shooting a glare at the back of Dash's bleach-blond head, "the words 'Tucker' and 'laboratory' should never be used in the same sentence, unless that sentence is 'Tucker should never be in a laboratory.'"

Tucker swooned dramatically. "You wound me with your distrust." Danny punched him in the shoulder as they reached the entrance.

The crisp autumn air that greeted the boys as they pushed the main doors open was a welcome change from the stale air of the hallway. "Besides," Tucker continued, "I bet Sam would love it, being a goth and all."

"That is a stereotype," a third, feminine voice rang out, "and I am _deeply_ offended."

Danny focused his attention of the speaker. "Sam, thank God! Tell Tuck we shouldn't sneak into the lab."

Sam Manson, the boys' only other friend, was leaning against Danny's cherry red motorcycle (a present from his parents for his sixteenth birthday) in what could have been called a provocative manner if it had been anyone else, a smirk playing on her blood red lips. her dyed black hair ("I refuse to be another blonde rich girl," she told Danny once) was swept back in a bun and held in place by an oriental hairpin the same shade as her lipstick, allowing the mischievous glint in her violet eyes to be visible under the fringe of her bangs. "Despite that idiotic comment," she said in her husky voice, standing straight, "sneaking in sounds like fun."

Danny groaned. "Fine," he said, rifling through the sidecar to fish out three helmets. He tossed one at Same and one at Tucker before securing his own over his black hair and swinging one leg over the body of the bike. Sam climbed on behind him, gripping the fabric of his white shirt with her black and red nails, as Tucker got into the sidecar.

"Why do I always get the sidecar?" Tucker grumbled, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

"Because," Danny answered over the revving engine, "I'm not letting you drive my baby and you refuse to hold onto me because you think it's gay."

Tucker growled as Danny took off into the street.

It was impossible to miss the Fenton house. On a street full of normal brownstones, a giant, steel grey arrow with the word "FentonWorks" written on it in neon green bubble letters stood out pretty easily.

Danny pulled the motorcycle up to the shed around the back of the brownstone, allowed his friends to get off, and locked it safely away for the weekend, While he did so, Sam removed her helmet and redid her bun, smoothing her red satin shirt, and Tucker put his beret back on his head after he removed his helmet.

Danny ran a hand through his permanently messy hair in an effort to remove the helmet-head effect. He sighed. "Let's get this over with. Jazz could be home any minute."

With the enthusiasm of a five-year-old going trick-or-treating, Tucker made a break for the back door that led to the Fentons' kitchen, as if Danny would suddenly change his mind. Danny and Sam followed at a much calmer pace, so by the time they reached the kitchen, Tucker was throwing the basement door open and nearly jumping down the stairs.

Danny had to admit that, were it not something he saw every day, he probably would have been excited about seeing a lab. His parents' lab had sterile white walls and a tile floor that let every sound made echo loudly throughout the room. Shelves upon shelves were filled with their failed inventions and experiments, and half a dozen cages specified to hold certain monsters (wood for vampires, silver for werewolves, iron for witches, etc.) littered the room.

And, yes, Jack and Maddie Fenton were monster hunters.

Danny suddenly felt very thirsty. He fought the feeling to listen as Tucker exclaimed, "This place is _radical!_ Why haven't we ever come down here before?"

"Because it's a laboratory with deadly weapons," Danny deadpanned.

Sam let out a terse laugh even as she began to look at the few successful weapons that had been made.

As Sam and Tucker continued to explore the lab, Danny wandered over to the fridge he knew his father kept stocked with cream soda. As unappealing as the pink liquid was to him, he was parched and desperate.

To his pleasant surprise, Danny found an unlabeled bottle of water, unsealed but full. He assumed his mother had refilled it, having taken a page out of Sam's environmentalist book. He snatched the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took a long drink out of it, sighing in relief as the cool liquid slid down his throat.

Suddenly, Danny wasn't thirsty anymore. He put the lid back on the bottle and stuffed it back in the fridge before he went to join Sam and Tucker as they examined a silver-barred cage.


	2. Chapter 2

Danny managed to shoo Sam and Tucker out of the lab just moments before his older sister, Jazz, got home. Jasmine was a year older than the trio, though she acted like an adult and was constantly trying to psychoanalyze them. She had long, auburn hair that she usually left loose and blue eyes the same shade as Danny's, and her long legs turned many heads at school even though she always kept them covered up with slacks or khakis.

"What're you guys doing at home on a Friday?" Jazz asked casually, setting her medley of multi-colored textbooks on the yellow wood dining table she'd found them sitting around. "You should be out and about, especially since Mom and Dad aren't home to get on your case."

"Oh?" said Danny. "I thought that was your job." He ducked just in time to dodge the Sharpie Jazz threw his way. "Seriously, though, we had a busy day. I think we'll save our wild teen partying until tomorrow." He wasn't fast enough this time to miss the ballpoint pen thrown at him, and the tip hit him directly on the nose.

"I'll have to pass on the partying," Sam said, sounding irritated. "My cousin Amanda's coming over tomorrow and there's no way my parents will let me get out of it."

"Wait!" Tucker interjected. "You mean your hot cousin Amanda?"

"No, actually, she must be pretty cold, considering how little she wears," Sam said in complete seriousness. Her phone vibrated in her skirt pocket, and she stood up without looking at it. "That's probably my folks. I better jet."

Danny stood automatically. "Want me to give you a lift?"

Sam shot him a look he couldn't decipher. "As fun as giving my parents an aneurysm would be, I'm going to have enough trouble this weekend without them giving me hell for associating with 'that Fenton boy' again. See you Monday." She gave them a final wave before hoisting her (black) messenger bag from where she'd left it on the counter over her shoulder and disappearing through the front door.

"You never offer to give me a ride home," Tucker said to Danny, an amused glint in his eyes.

"Because you're a guy."

Danny had an imprint of Tucker's calculator on his face until dinner.

* * *

Tucker, of course, stayed for dinner. Jazz phoned in for pizza, since she had a huge psych test to study for ("Four weeks isn't nearly enough time to cover all six chapters!" she'd wailed to Danny that very morning) and the boys ate while they played Doom in Danny's room.

It was the room of a typical teenage boy, with dirty socks strewn everywhere and the bed unmade. Posters of famous astronauts covered the walls and the ceiling, and he even had a star chart tucked behind some comic books on his bookshelf. Only Sam knew it was there, because she'd helped him buy it, and he knew Tucker would tease him relentlessly if he ever found out about it.

After his ninth death, Tucker decided it was time to go home. "I gotta think of a strategy to see Hot Cousin Amanda without Sam murdering me," he explained as he tied his shoes.

Danny crossed him arms and leaned against the wall next to the front door. "Amanda's not that hot, y'know. She's really shallow and fake."

"Says the guy who trailed after Paulina for two years."

"Paulina was hot. That is, until Dash knocked her up."

Paulina Sanchez had been the "it" girl of Casper High since she enrolled with Danny, Tucker, and Sam freshman year. She had bronzed skin, smooth dark hair, and legs that went on for miles. Danny was hardly the only boy enraptured by her exotic beauty, and several upperclassmen tried to hit on her as well. In the latter half of their sophomore year, however, Danny started to realize how much of a bitch she really was. Then, right before the end of the year, it was revealed that she was pregnant with Dash's child. Her parents immediately withdrew her from school and didn't sign her up for junior year, and now her name was practically taboo.

"Whatever." Tucker finished with his shoes and stood up. "See ya later, Danny."

"Yeah. Tell me how the Amanda thing goes."

Tucker flashed his lecherous grin. "Oh, I will."

* * *

Danny had a hard time getting to sleep that night. His entire body seemed to burn and itch and ache, and he had the insane feeling that it was too tight. Which was ridiculous, of course, because a person's skin was the largest organ of the body, and it was constantly stretching to accustom growth. He tried to keep it to himself, because he knew Jazz would just try to find a neat explanation for it that was somehow connected to some kind of psychological disorder she was convinced he possessed, but it was hard in the morning.

He'd stumbled into the kitchen where Jazz was flipping blueberry pancakes. "Morning," he yawned.

Jazz turned to greet him, but froze, her face morphing from that of a sleepy teenager to that of a concerned mother. "Danny, are you feeling okay? Your face is really red."

"It's nothing," he assured, waving her worry away with a swish of his hand. "The vent in my room's probably busted or something. I'll take a cold shower after breakfast and see if that helps." This seemed to reassure her, as she then asked him to set the table and pour her a glass of soy milk.

The cold shower did, in fact, not work. If anything, it made his skin more irritated, as if it were outraged he was trying to stop the itch. Danny groaned defeatedly, leaning his fevered forehead against the steamed mirror. He studied his reflection, and was surprised to see that there was a silver tint to his eyes.

_It's probably nothing_, he thought. _Just a trick of the light._

He swept a hand over the mirror to dispel the steam, and when it was gone, his eyes were back to normal.

A little after noon, Danny got a text from Tucker. _Want 2 eat NB?_ He suddenly realized how hungry he was, and he shot back an affirmative before shouting to Jazz where he was going. Not that she heard, of course. She was studying again, and he had no doubt she'd call if she got worried.

Since he had to pay for his own gas and Nasty Burger, the local haunt of Amity Park's teenage community, was only a few short blocks away, he forewent riding his motorcycle and opted to walk instead. The air seemed much clearer than it had the previous day, and Danny found his hearing was much more sharp. He chalked it up to the day being nice and got to the fast food joint with no further incident.

Tucker was already in their usual seat with their food, looking quite more dejected than he had when Danny saw him off the previous day. "Shot down?" he asked without preamble, sliding into the booth across from him.

"Worse," Tucker moaned. "Sam caught me peeking over the fence. She jumped it, pummeled me, and threatened me with disembowelment if I ever tried to hit on Amanda again."

"Can't say I didn't warn you," Danny replied unsympathetically. He plucked a burger from the mountain and unwrapped it. "It wouldn't've worked anyway, man. She lives in Florida and she goes through about ten boyfriends a year."

"How'd you know that?"

"Sam told me."

There was an uneasy silence for a moment before Tucker spoke up again. "Dude...you gonna leave some for me?"

With a start, Danny realized he'd eaten at least fifteen burgers within about seven minutes, lessening the pile tremendously. "Oh, sorry, man. I guess I was hungrier than I realized."

"What'd you have for breakfast?"

"Two blueberry pancakes, an omelette, and some bacon."

Tucker choked on his soda. "You never eat that much! Are you feeling okay?"

Danny felt an irrational anger rise in his chest. "I'm fine, Tuck. Why does everyone think there's something wrong with me?"

"Calm down, man. I was just asking."

The rest of their lunch was spent in silence.

* * *

The rest of Saturday passed without too much of a struggle, and as Danny tucked himself under his covers, he prayed that Sunday would be better.

Of course, that would have been too easy.

Danny awoke on Sunday morning to a splitting pain in his head. He choked back a cry of pain by biting his lip so hard it bled. Fumbling his way down the hallway, he nearly broke the handle of the bathroom opening it in a desperation to get some painkillers in his system. He swallowed two Tylenol dry, splashed some cold water on his face, and went down the stairs to get some breakfast.

Jazz was concerned about him again, but he bit tersely at the bacon he'd piled on his plate and refused to acknowledge her worry. When he was done, he tossed his tableware into the sink and stalked back up to his room.

**Do not get angry at sister**, a small voice at the back of his head said, **She means no harm.**

_Dear Lord_, Danny thought, leaning his head against the wood of his door. _I'm going insane._

**No, you're not**, said the voice. **This is natural. I am a part of you, and you will need me in upcoming times. I only want what's best for both of us.**

_Okay then_, Danny replied mentally. _What do you want me to do?_

**Nothing, for now. Relax, try to rest. You will have to use a lot of energy tomorrow.**

_What the hell_, Danny decided, and plucked Sam's star chart from behind his comic books and began to look it over.


	3. Chapter 3

Danny only left his room to eat dinner Sunday night, despite Jazz's pleads to talk to her. From what his inner-voice-thing was telling him, talking to Jazz would only make him snap at her, which was something he couldn't afford at this point.

Monday morning came quickly. Danny awoke covered in sweat and burning under his thin comforter. The mind-voice had, actually, warned him about the fever, but assured him that he wasn't actually sick.

Danny waited until the last possible moment to grab a piece of toast and a few pieces of bacon for breakfast before he zoomed off on his motorcycle. Make it to school, the mind-voice coached. You need to see Sam and Tucker today.

He parked the bike in its usual spot, straightened his clothes, and braced himself for his entrance into the school building. The mind-voice had warned him last night that school would be harder today, though it was necessary.

As soon as the double glass doors opened, Danny felt like puking. The air was stale and it smelled like sweat and grease and all bad things. Was it always so crowded here?

Then he caught a soothing scent. Cinnamon and apples. Tucker, the mind-voice supplied. Danny followed the scent trail to his best friend's locker, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw Tucker was alone. "I'm sorry about Saturday," he said before Tucker could speak. "I was stressed out and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"It's okay, man," Tucker said, shooting Danny his customary grin.

A new scent cut through the sweat-stench of the school. Danny's nostrils flared. Something smelled like fruits and flowers and spring. It was delicious.

**Turn around**, the voice in his head urged. Too entranced by this new smell to even think about resisting, he did.

"Sam," he breathed, even as the mind-voice said, **Mine. Ours.** She was the source of the delicious sell. Had she always been that beautiful? Danny wondered as she approached, taking in her beautiful black hair, left down that day and framing her shining purple eyes. He could also smell her favorite plum lipgloss that colored her mouth purple, and the alabaster expanse that was her neck underneath her necklace was a tantalizing invitation to bite, to _mark…_

"Uh, Danny?" Tucker's voice broke through Danny's clouded mind, snapping him out of what was about to become a very adult-like fantasy involving one of his best friends. Danny didn't know whether to thank Tucker or strangle him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry for zoning out."

Sam sidled up, her purple minidress clinging to her in a way that did not at all help Danny's concentration. Was that thing even legal? It should be illegal. "Morning, boys," she said in that husky voice of hers. Was she trying to kill him? "How was your weekend?"

"I wasn't disemboweled," Tucker joked.

Sam glared.

The bell rang, possibly saving Tucker from a painful death, and the three walked to their first period English class with the school's vice principal and dean of students, Mr. Lancer.

* * *

Danny didn't see Sam again until lunch, since she'd gotten out of their shared P.E. class to work on an art project. He could catch her fruit-flower scent in the hallways between periods, setting him on edge.

That being said, most of his peers gave him a wider berth than usual. They seemed...almost uncertain of him, for whatever reason. So, though his morning was horribly Sam-lacking, it was also pleasantly beating-lacking, as well.

Danny was quickly able to locate Sam and Tucker in an abandoned corner of the cafeteria. They'd lucked out in getting the second lunch period, which had half the students of the first. It was much less likely than any of them would get teased and/or beaten to a pulp, so the trio was able to relax.

Danny piled a tray with some of the school's dubious lasagne, purchased a Coke from the vending machine, and made a beeline for his friends. The smell of Sam, stronger now than in the hallways, calmed him minisculely, and he was even able to manage to smile at his friends as he sat.

That, quite frankly, didn't last very long.

After about five minutes, a splitting pain exploded in Danny's head, and suddenly the lunch room was too small, too crowded. His every instinct was screaming at him to take Sam and Tucker (**Pack,** said the mind-voice. **Protect.**) and flee to somewhere dark and cold and secluded so he could…

What? What was he supposed to do? Danny wasn't even sure, but he knew it had to be done and it had to be done now.

He stood abruptly, thighs knocking into the table and disrupting their food trays. "Sam," he said through gritted teeth, "Tuck, we have to go _now._"

Danny could smell their fear and confusion, though he wasn't sure how he knew it was fear and confusion. Sam brushed it off easily, springing up from her seat beside him and putting a hand on his elbow. "Danny, what's wrong?"

"I don't know!" Danny said. "I just know that we need to get out of here and go—" **To the forest**. "—to the forest, and we need to do it now."

Sam nodded, hair bouncing slightly, and turned to where Tuck remained seated. "Tuck, go tell the nurse Danny's sick and I'm taking him home."

Danny protested, "No! Tuck needs to come!"

"He can catch up with us," Sam soothed as Tuck raced from the lunch room. "Right now, worry about what you need."

Her voice was able to calm Danny enough to allow her to lead him from the room and into the forest of fir trees that resided behind Casper High. As soon as they were within the safety of the trees, Danny fell to the ground, relishing in the feel of the cool earth against his feverish skin. Safe, his mind-voice sighed.

He vaguely heard Sam's voice (later, he would learn that she was saying, "Danny, are you okay? What's wrong?") but his mind-voice took precedence. **Get on all fours. Don't fight this. It's natural. Breathe. Relax.** Danny obeyed its commands, rearranging his body.

Just as he finished, his back jackknifed and an inhuman howl tore from his rose to his mouth, forcing him to vomit as his bones began to shift under his burning skin. His clothes ripped and fell around him, but he didn't have the time to worry about Sam seeing him naked because his skull was getting longer. his ears were moving to the top of his head, and his teeth were sharpening.

_Oh, my God,_ he thought. _I'm a werewolf._

Through his pained haze. he felt a soft hand on his spine, where fur was starting to grow. "You're doing fine, Danny," said Sam's voice from somewhere above him. Sam was good. Sam was very good. He felt himself calm slightly. "I'm right here, okay? I'm right here, and I'm not going to leave."

The change lasted another five painful minutes, though it was made easier with Sam's encouragement. He could hear his bones crack and his skin move, and the fur that grew only made his body even more fevered. At long last, however, the change was done, and in Danny's place was an adult black wolf with sky blue eyes.

He turned his muzzle to look at Sam, who was still with him, wearing a worried look. "Hey, Danny," she said softly, patting him on the head with one of her hands. He turned his nose up to nuzzle against her palm, a soft, satisfied growl rumbling in his chest. "Yeah, I'm here. I read all those new horror novels—Kelley Armstrong, you know—and I'll bet you're sleepy. You can sleep, if you want. I'll be here when you wake up."

Danny huffed and let his head fall to her lap (when did she sit down?). Before long, a drowsy blackness surrounded him. The last thing he heard was the voice of Tucker Foley, who'd just arrived.


	4. IMPORTANT AN

I've got a few things to share with you all. Some, you may like. Some, you may not.

I am leaving effefffdotnet for AO3. My username on there is the same as here, and I'll be keeping this account so I can re-read my stories and see how much I've grown. The only stories I'm going to revise/be continuing are:

My Genderbent HTTYD fics

The Detective's Daughter

Lupus Dannialis

If anyone else is interested in continuing my abandoned works, feel free to do so! I'm sorry to bounce this on you, but I think it's for the best.

Signing off,

LittleMissWolfie


End file.
